


Regent's Park

by BerityBaker



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, Picnics, Pre-Reichenbach, Shorts (Clothing), Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 21:02:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4407545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BerityBaker/pseuds/BerityBaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is sulking on a beautiful day. John drags him along on a picnic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Regent's Park

**Author's Note:**

> I am in LONDON! Today I took a trip to Regent's Park and couldn't help but sit down for two hours and write some fic. Here's the product, right from the source. (Londonception...)

They'd awoken that morning without a case, and therefore plenty of leisure time, much to Sherlock's dismay.

"Sherlock." John finally slammed his mug down in frustration. "It's gorgeous out, why are you along around the flat?"

"By all means, John, go out and enjoy yourself. Don't let me hold you back," Sherlock replied with an annoyed sigh.

John didn't have the energy to argue, but couldn't bring himself to leave Sherlock alone, lying on the sofa in his dressing gown.

It took him all of five seconds to make up his mind. He stood, then dragged Sherlock to his feet as well.

"Get up. We're going on a picnic."

Sherlock shot him a look. "Why?"

"So you can get some fresh air and I'll stop wanting to wring your neck. Get dressed."

Sherlock muttered angrily, but did as he was told. John was just packing up their sandwiches when Sherlock came around the corner into the kitchen. John stopped dead and had to stifle a laugh.

Sherlock glared. "It's hot out."

John shook his head and grinned. "Of course. I've just never seen you is shorts before."

Sherlock's face went red as he turned away, back towards his bedroom. "I look ridiculous."

"No!" John nearly shouted. Sherlock turned back to him quizzically. John coughed. "No, um, you look...fine. It's all fine." He was stuck with the memory of the first meal they'd shared - sort of. He'd uttered the same words in a different context, but was suddenly uncomfortable at their familiarity.

Sherlock cocked his head and squinted his eyes, but soon exited to the sitting room without another word on the subject.

"So, where are we going on this picnic?" Sherlock's sarcasm was audible even from his resumed position on the sofa.

"Regent's Park, I was thinking. Right down the street and all." John entered the sitting room with the small picnic hamper he'd been loading. "Unless you've got a better idea."

"Regent's Park is fine. It's all fine."

John could feel the blood rising in his face as Sherlock's eyes swept over him, clearly gauging his reaction to the repeated phrase.

"Good. Let's get a move on, then," he mumbled, beginning to regret the decision to force Sherlock out of the flat. The fact of the matter was, Sherlock's shorts, like all of the rest of his clothes, were far tighter than they had any right to be, not to mention they were somewhat shorter than John was used to seeing on another man, and Sherlock still hadn't ceased his analysis of every little movement John made.

He continued to glance at John for the entire walk, actually, making John hyper-aware of the length of his stride and the sweat on his brow ave his slippery, vicelike grip on the hamper. He sat down as quickly as he could when they reached an empty patch of grass, spreading out the sheet he'd brought and letting the hamlet rest in his lap.

After some deliberation with himself, Sherlock seemed to settle on facing the path, landing him beside John with his legs stretched out in front of him. They were so long that the soles of his shoes spilled over the edge of the sheet into the grass. John coughed again.

Sherlock glanced over at John once more, then drew his legs up to his chest. The position made him look juvenile, and John once again found himself trying not to laugh at the sight of it.

Sherlock began to pout, so John hurried with removing the food from its case: two sandwiches, two bags of crisps, two bottles of water, and what remained of the cake Mrs. Hudson had brought them on Tuesday. Playing a peanut butter sandwich on front of Sherlock, John said, "Eat something. You're a lot less grumpy when you've eaten."

Sherlock scoffed, but complied, nibbling at the crust a bit before taking a large bite.

John stared all around at the birds and the children chasing them. It really was a beautiful day, if a little warm. Better to get out now while the sun was shining, anyway. He shooed a pigeon away.

"Thank you, John," Sherlock said after a moment, taking a swig from one of the water bottles.

John started. "What for?"

"For suggesting this. For making me get off the sofa."

John smirked. "Still bored?"

"A little."

John laughed. "At least there are people to watch here, though."

Sherlock nodded.

John nudged him and said, "What about him?" It was a game they were used to playing when they found themselves with downtime in public.

"Skiving off. He's got an exam he's not prepared for. Didn't want to look like an idiot."

John nodded toward a young woman on a bench.

"Tourist," Sherlock sighed.

John looked at him. "Really?"

"Look at her bookbag. Brightly coloured in the fashion of someone unaccustomed to carrying it around the city. She's also got sunglasses on her head that doing match her outfit, probably the only ones she brought with her. I'd say she's an American student, in London for a month or so."

John was about to ask how Sherlock had determined that last bit when he noticed a young man approaching them.

"Are you...? Oh my god, you are," the boy said. "I'm so sorry, I just..." His eyes shot from Sherlock to John. "Doctor Watson, I read your blog like mad. It's all just so incredible. D'you think I could...?"

He trailed off when he spotted the picnic. "Oh. Sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you on your date."

John was glad he hadn't taken a bite, otherwise he might have asphyxiated right there, and Sherlock wouldn't have even deemed the case a "one."

"We just fancied a picnic," Sherlock replied.

"We're not together," John clarified.

The boy's eyes went wide. "I didn't mean anything by it. I just - the way you write about Sherlock in your blog - it seemed like you were...well...I'm sorry."

"How about a photo?" Sherlock said brightly, but John could tell it was nothing more than a way to send the kid off. They took one together, then he wanted one with just Sherlock, and he waved as he stumbled over a drawn-out goodbye.

Sherlock rolled his eyes as soon as the boy had turned away.

"Can you believe he thought we were on a date?" John hissed.

"Honestly, John, it's not a hard conclusion to jump to. We're on a picnic together, and all of the flowery language you inflict on your blog's delirious readership is likely to send them the wrong message."

"And what message would that be?"

"That you and I are romantically involved. Or, at the very least, that you would like for us to be."

"But I would like for us to be."

Sherlock nearly dropped his water. "You what?"

"What did I just say? I don't have any desire to be romantically involved with you!"

"That's not what you said."

John's frustration was put on pause. "Wasn't it?" He looked at Sherlock, who stared at him with wide, shocked eyes that somehow still seemed to be awaiting John's reaction.

Sherlock shook his head.

John looked down. After the longest moment he'd ever endured, he said, "Look, Sherlock. I don't even know what to think. For a while now, I've started to..."

For the moment that Sherlock's lips touched his, John forgot that they were in public. He forgot the awkward encounter with the young man, forgot that they still had cake to eat.

When Sherlock pulled away, all of John's unspoken questions about the meaning of "married to my work," about how long Sherlock had felt this way, were answered in his eyes.

John slapped his shoulder, half angry, half amused. "You git. We could've been doing this for months."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and if there's anyone who's kept up with my Hogwarts AU, 'Year Five,' I will be updating it as soon as I'm able, which unfortunately probably won't be for another couple weeks. (I actually typed this story into AO3 on my phone. Sorry if autocorrect screwed anything up that I missed. If you point it out in a comment, I'll fix it when I can.)


End file.
